My Story

I am a survivor. But not in the way most people think.

Yes, I have lived through trauma, heartbreak, loss, and seasons that could have easily defined me. Yet survival alone was never God’s final intention for my life. What He has done in me goes far beyond merely helping me endure.

As a young girl growing up in a Christian home, I was aware of God’s presence. I remember moments when I sensed Him near, especially one evening at a church camp when it felt as though He were walking among us. I wanted to know Him. But at the same time, I carried deep shame and the belief that someone like me could never truly be loved by a holy God.

In that confusion, I made a decision I did not fully understand at the time, yet it shaped the course of my life. Instead of moving toward the light I longed for, I aligned myself with darkness—not because I desired evil, but because I believed I did not belong to God.

Even then, the hunger never left. If anything, it grew stronger.

Like many in my generation, I was searching. I was caught between a world that felt meaningless, a broken “make love, not war” ideology, and the grief of losing friends in the jungles of Vietnam. I felt hollow and hopeless, moving from one pursuit to another, trying to fill an emptiness I could not name.

Nothing satisfied. I searched for love in all the wrong places and tried to numb the pain of childhood sexual abuse and rape with anything that offered even a moment of relief.

It was 1969. I was 23, living in San Francisco with my boyfriend and my two-year-old daughter. We were surrounded by drugs, fear, and instability. The culture promised freedom, yet I felt more bound than ever. Deep down, I knew this was not the life I was meant to live.

Then, in the midst of that darkness, God spoke—not as a distant memory, but as a living, present voice. I knew He was speaking directly to me. And He made something unmistakably clear: I did not belong there. This was not His plan for my life.

November 21, 1969, marked a defining turning point.

In another attempt to escape the turmoil within me, I took a powerful dose of LSD, unaware it had been laced with arsenic. What followed was not escape but an unveiling.

During a twelve-hour near-death experience, I endured intense fear, torment, and pain. Near the end, I was drawn through a tunnel of brilliant light and came to a river. I knew that if I crossed over, I would die.

I had lived with thoughts of suicide since childhood, but standing at death's threshold, I realized with absolute clarity: I was not ready. I could no longer hide from the One who had been pursuing me all along.

Then I saw Him. Jesus stood before me—radiant and unmistakable. I knew at once who He was.

What I saw and felt in that moment was more real than anything I had ever known, yet beyond what words can fully express.

I will never forget the look on His face. The only way I can describe it is this: it was like liquid love—pure, flowing, and alive.

His love melted me. Every lie I had believed—that I was unlovable, too far gone, or beyond a holy God's reach—collapsed in His presence. The love I had searched for my entire life stood before me. And He loved me—not a future version of me, not a cleaned-up version, but me exactly as I was.

During that encounter, everything changed. The darkness lifted. Peace flooded my soul. Joy returned. Life surged back into me.

I was not merely forgiven. I had been transferred from darkness into the Kingdom of God—into a new identity, a new authority, and a completely new way of life under His rule.

In His presence, I knew with certainty: He had always loved me. He had always been there. I was the one who had turned away. And in that moment, I finally came home.

That encounter marked the beginning of everything that followed.

It was the very beginning of what would later be known as the Jesus Movement. 

Looking back, I can see that I stepped into the Kingdom at a time when God was awakening an entire generation of seekers like me. At the time, I understood only religion—not the reality of the King and His Kingdom.

I completely surrendered my life. My voice, my future, and my purpose were no longer mine.

In that surrender, my assignment began to unfold. I knew I was called to give my life fully to Him—to preach the Kingdom of God, teach the truth of Jesus Christ, and pour into others what He had poured into me. I did not yet understand what that yes would entail. But I knew I would spend my life saying yes to whatever He asked of me.

That yes has been tested many times.

When I first shared what had happened with my family, I expected joy. Instead, I was met with skepticism. The people who had known me in my brokenness struggled to accept the person I had become.

That became one of my earliest lessons in the Kingdom: not everyone will understand what God is doing in your life, and you cannot build your identity on their ability to see it.

The years that followed came at a cost. I have walked through abuse, rejection, betrayal, loss, depression, and the internal battles that come with surviving them. Healing did not happen overnight, and following Christ has never been without challenge.

But the Holy Spirit became my teacher, my guide, and my source of strength. He used every part of my journey to shape, refine, and strengthen me, and to reveal the purpose He had placed within me from the beginning.

There were many times when I felt unqualified, overwhelmed, and unsure of myself. But I learned something that has shaped everything I now teach: In the Kingdom of God, dependence is not a weakness—it is strength.

As I followed His leading, my life unfolded in ways I could never have imagined. I directed a halfway house for women, led a Teen Challenge program serving men struggling with addiction, and served in prison ministry. I taught the Bible, preached in churches, and engaged in evangelistic outreach. I developed a counseling and teaching center and supported the research and writing of a well-known evangelist.

I spent time among Native American tribes in Arizona, Mexico, and Peru, where I was adopted into the Hopi tribe and given a name. I had the privilege of speaking at leadership conferences for pastors across multiple nations. I also spent eleven years in the corporate world in New York.

Then came Haiti.

When I was called to establish and lead a leadership institute and a school of ministry there, everything came into focus. Every experience, every assignment, and every difficult season had been preparation. Nothing was wasted.

I came to understand that true leadership is not about position or recognition. It is about responsibility. It is about saying yes to what God entrusts to you and remaining faithful even when it costs you.

It means showing up when you would rather step back. Giving when you would rather hold on. And carrying the weight of others’ growth, even when no one sees it.

Today, I carry more than a testimony. I carry a message forged over decades of walking with God through both the miraculous and the mundane.

I am convinced that nothing in your life is wasted. That God forms leaders in process, not in comfort. And that no matter where you have been or what you have walked through, you are not disqualified—you are being prepared.

More than ever, this generation needs mature leaders who faithfully represent the King.

That is why I am committed to pouring out everything God has entrusted to me—every lesson, every truth, and every ounce of wisdom—so others can grow into the people they were created to be.

Because there is more for you than simply surviving. There is more than merely getting by or struggling to reach another level in your life or leadership.

And if you are hungry for that “more,” perhaps this is your invitation to step into the process that will prepare you to represent the King well in your generation.